


To sleep, perhaps to heal a mind

by NannaSally



Series: other places other times [1]
Category: Dystopian Future - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8441161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NannaSally/pseuds/NannaSally
Summary: a freed slave learns to be an individual again





	1. Chapter 1

** _To sleep, perhaps to heal a mind_ **

 

_How do you adjust to a life outside slavery? Even one you have dreamed about, craved for. – how do you make it real? Make it yours?_

_How do you become the person you were before the… degradation?_

 

He had been born to freedom. Not wealth, but neither poverty. Needs well met. Love and kindness, and discipline in needed measure.

 

‘Robbie– come here and see this pretty flower’

‘

Robbie, let me make that better’

‘Robbie, mummy and daddy love you’

 

Then ‘Robbie, I am sorry –don’t forget me…I am sorry’

Pulled away from loving arms, loving faces, loving memories – last view the smashed face and broken body.

No – he did not want to go there again.. but in his dreams, his pain wracked dreams, that last scene played over and over again – if only he could have done something, anything to stop it…

But he had been 10 years old, and there is little a 10 year old can do to protect himself, let alone an adult.

 *****************************************************

As with all slaves, Robbie had been subject to humiliation and degradation.  Even those 'Owners' who did not practice overt cruelty expected obedience and did not consider the wants or needs of their 'possessions' above the level of maintaining a proper level of work ability.

Robbie , like most young boys, was a sweet looking child at 10 - prepubescent, just about to enter his growth spurt, beginning that gangly, leggy look. Very enticing with his coffee toned skin, his red/brown curls and his long lashed dark brown eyes.

So potential owners included the lusting, self serving as well as those who just valued pretty things.

In fact his first owner had valued him for his prettiness most - a fleet of pretty little boys of various colourings and sizes.  from ebony to ivory and every skin colour in between, darkest curls to fairest tresses.  They were pampered to keep them healthy, clean and well. Good food, good care.  They were encouraged to call her Auntie Mama, think of her as a stand-in mother figure...

In return they were expected to fetch and carry, fan...and fondle.  Kisses were to be received and to be given. And a treat to follow as reward once you got over the shyness many children feel about kissing lots of different people. This progressed, seemingly gently, til the fondling, the kisses seemed almost normal -

They were displayed at parties, encouraged to spend time with guests, petted and fed.. - and after each party one or two of their number did not return.  it was not spoken of outright, but whispers after dark - where had that little redhead gone? The blonde child with all the freckles?  the curly haired, cheeky smiled friend of yesterday?  No child stayed in the house after 12 years old.

The day Robbie left the house and Auntie Mama's care was almost as traumatic as the day he had left his old life. A party, the touch of many hands, sitting on knees and receiving treats...Then taken out and never returned.

His first master was not too bad in comparison to those he later met.  Details are not necessary. Enough to know that the fondling progressed, til nothing was any longer a surprise.

When he grew out of the cute, gangly phase he was passed on - and again - and again.

Each just as bad as the last and never ending - even the peaceful times were full of dread anticipation.


	2. Ending begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> removed from slavery, but is it really freedom?

Robbie did not know quite how it ended.  One day everything seemed as usual - just as hellish, just as painful

Lots of noise, people milling around.

Lifted up and placed on a stretcher.

Confusion in a medical bay - faces, questions, noise.

In and out of reality while the body was treated and slowly began to heal.

No room for choices yet - Life or Death was the immediate future.

One day Robbie woke - it was not so noisy, not so many confusing images.

He lay there quietly, not knowing what to expect or what was expected of him.

The first thing he really noticed was lack of pain!

He moved and nothing hurt......

He was warm.

He was...thirsty.

Quite suddenly there was a face, an arm around his shoulders, a glass held to his lips. He could not have resisted for anything. It was water, and he drank quickly, frightened it might be taken away from him. 

Voice asked questions, how did he feel? was there anything he needed? would he like to eat?

How to answer. He really could not. He had been beaten for expressing his own needs or wants - and how was he to know this might not happen again?

So he said nothing. He barely looked at the person in front of him, so much so he was not really sure if it was male or female - though in his experience it did not really make much difference.

He became aware that the arm had been removed, the back of the bed raised, and his hands had been clasped around the mug. He was very careful not to spill it, and risked a further tentative sip. When nothing happened in response, he continued to drink, relishing the taste and coolness of the liquid on his tongue and against his teeth.

He peeked quickly up, and he saw his attendant's back. She, he was pretty sure it was a she. was busy at a table clicking on a keyboard in front of a monitor. As she started to turn back he looked away again, still holding the now empty mug.

She came across. She had a jug in her hand and offered him more water. But he could not answer - so she refilled his mug while it was still in his hands and walked away. After replacing the jug she walked out a door.


	3. The Sleep Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sleep therapy

The _Universal Healing Institution_ was founded to help people like Robbie , who had left the slave community and needed assistance to adjust to being an individual human.

Patients were diagnosed, and individual treatment plans were designed, including diet and nutrition and exercise, group therapy, individual counselling sessions.

One of the major areas of treatment was Sleep Therapy.  The patient was assisted to sleep, using a mixture of light sedative, white noise and hynotherapy. As the inevitable nightmares began, a therapist would quietly murmur words of comfort, words of assurance, words of affirmation, words of healing into the ear of the sleeper - whatever this particular sleeper most needed to hear.  After a time, the sleeper heard the words as the nightmare 'aura' played - and was able to bypass the dreams and reenter a period of deep sleep. This had been proven to assist greatly in the mind healing itself. No machines were involved - personal care was emphasised. It was important that the resident receive this type of care from another human.

They also offered self defence classes - from bare beginner to advanced, as many of these broken people felt more confident once they knew they were capable of defending their personal space.

Perhaps one of the most beneficial thing offered was a chance at making decisions that were honoured by those around them

Choices were offered, in meal times, activities, clothing and many other aspects of environment.  And then the patient was alllowed to choose for himself - even if that meant making no choice...

As long as physical health was dealt with, the rest was mostly left to the practice of Benign Neglect - benign because only good was offered, neglect because it was offered, not forced.


End file.
